The Flickering Candle
by only-mj
Summary: A young Ryou Bakura receives some devastating news. Pre-Manga. Mentioned Character Death. Contains themes of death and Christianity


He sat quietly in his seat, trying not to squirm as he sat across the room from an older and larger woman. The woman did not say anything at first, but she did wear a serious look on her face. She held a notepad and pen in her lap. He had never seen this woman before. He wondered who she was.

Ryou looked around the room curiously. The walls were painted a calming green and covered sporadically with old motivational posters and wooden decorative crosses. He kicked his legs absent-mindedly as his feet did not reach the ground in his comfortably worn seat. The flower patterned curtains hung up in the window, preventing him from seeing outside. He wished he could see the world away from this strange woman's office.

There was a third chair that sat beside the woman. In the chair sat a ceramic candle holder. It was solid, except for the hole in the back so one could place a small tea candle inside and a smaller hole in the top where smoke could rise up. The piece was turned around so that the hole was facing him. He could see the lit candle flickering inside. It made him uncomfortable. He looked back over to the covered window.

"Ryou…" The woman started. "Your father asked me to talk to you." The boy let out a sigh, not wanting to look at her, or talk to her. "Ryou. Do you see this light?" She asked, motioning to the small lamp beside her.

He glanced over to it before looking off towards one of the posters. He focused on trying to read the Bible verse written in its script font that was difficult for him to make out since cursive was still new to the child. He nodded when she asked him a second time. "Yes ma'am." He responded quietly.

"Everybody has a light inside them. It burns like this candle does. It's bright. And It's warm. And as long as the candle is burning, the fire is alive." She explained to him carefully. "But…" The counsellor continued, turning the candle holder around. He quickly turned back to her just in time to see the light disappear from sight. "Sometimes things happen… And sometimes people's lights go out. And we can't see them anymore. And we can't feel their warmth anymore." She blew the candle out and Ryou watched the smoke rise from the top as tears filled his dark eyes. "Once someone's candle gets burnt out, it can't ever be lit again. But they are still here inside us. And we'll always remember their light if we think really hard on it."

Ryou wiped his eyes quickly. He wasn't stupid. He knew what she was trying to say. He wished everyone would stop talking about it. He just wanted to go home. "Amane is dead…" He muttered as he couldn't stop crying. "I don't care about your stupid candle! My dad told me last night…" He sobbed, burying his face in his hands. "Why? Why?!" _Why did she have to be gone? Why did she have to die? She hadn't done anything wrong! It wasn't fair!_

The counsellor set her notepad back on her desk and approached the boy. She wrapped him up in a tight hug and he continued to cry into her. "Sometimes… Things just happen… And we can't know why… But for some reason God needed your sister back."

"That's dumb!" He cried out. "God has plenty of people!"

The counsellor chuckled a bit, pulling away from him. "Your sister was very special to you." Ryou nodded, wiping his eyes in vain. "And she's very special to God, too. Just like we all are. And it's okay to cry. It's okay to feel sad. But I want you to think of the happy times you had with her. Can you do that for me? I promise if you can do that, then you'll still be able to feel her light inside you a little bit." Ryou nodded obediently, knowing he would do anything to keep his little sister's light going. She gave him a smile, pulling away from him to retrieve the notepad and pen from her desk. She held it out to him with encouragement. "Would you like to write a letter to your sister up in Heaven? I'd bet she misses you as much as you miss her."


End file.
